The Sacrifice
by Shoysrock
Summary: A one-shot companion fic to my ongoing fanfiction The Mousetrap. My dear friend Sakura was dissapointed I didn't do a detailed graphic sex scene in the story, so for an early Christmas present I wrote a Ratigan/OC for her. WARNING: Rough non-con sex.


"You sure you want this Anette?"

Ratigan growled at the gypsy. She sat motionless on the bed, watching Lauren get carried away to a sort of safety.

"It's too late now Ratigan. I will not have you harming her this night." She replied. Her voice was small and filled with strength, however little it was. She tried to mask her true emotions of fear and terror, mostly succeeding. The vile rat, however, knew she was afraid. His Gypsy was always afraid of him.

"Smart girl." His tone was husky with lust. He went to the dresser, finding a pack of cigarettes for his use. Lighting on, he began to smoke as he shed his clothing.

She turned away, shivering and trying to calm herself. Her eyes were shut as he continued undressing, her fate drawing nearer and nearer…

Whipping was bad enough. Slavery worse. Getting touched, bleeding after whipping on the floor and then getting raped by several mice thugs was very bad.

But not _him…_

Fear struck again, chilling her very bones at the prospect. The very being that haunted her dreams was there before her, smoking in only his britches! And when she turned to him once again, her face written with terror he only smiled at her and doused his cigarette. There was malice in his eyes as he moved to her, his bulk and muscles massive and her form, thin and tiny compared to his.

With no one but the violent Ratigan there in the room to witness the future atrocity, she felt at least safe that her weaknesses would not be seen by others if her spirit would be broken.

"Are you scared, harlot?" He rasped. She looked down, trying to gather her senses together so she wouldn't look afraid.

"Maybe…" She squeaked. She felt his bulk sit on the bed, and the weight of his eyes bore into her soul.

He smiled, noticing her nervousness with glee. His hands flexed, his nails more like claws, itching to break her skin and taint her rich brown fur with blood. However she still wore that ragged dress…

"Strip." Ratigan declared. She glanced at him, taking notice of his eyes. Ratigan had plenty of time for fun, and he would give her all she needed to give in to his demands, and take off every little bit of her clothing…

_I'll j-just have to…to pretend…t-that…_She couldn't pretend. She tried not to feel anything as she took her clothes off, her dress and undergarments quickly joining a pile on the floor. The air was cool against her skin through the fur, yet no breeze ruffled her bare fur. Still she was chilled…till her soul felt as if it would die in upon itself. She knew that he would hurt her no matter what she did.

A hand reached, caressing her shoulders and reaching down to her breasts. It felt gentle and quiet, Ratigan looking at her resisting the urge for the moment to ravish wildly. In return, she did nothing but cringe as she kneeled in her nakedness.

Yet he was not pleased. No biting, nothing of the qualities of his feisty Gypsy! He grasped both, squeezing, watching her face in disappointment that she did nothing but kneel for him. Still, nothing from her but a sharp intake of breath as he closed in around her.

A smile graced his lips as he smelled the fear wafting from her.

The feeling of their bodies so close together was making her lose control as with his hands…scaly…and clawed…were abusing her flesh. She dared not look at the assaulting hands plaguing her flesh with such filth.

"Fight. You know you don't like this girl." Ratigan growled in her ear, his claws digging into her skin trying to coax her into action. Her breath quickened, she breathing loud, but she did nothing. He felt her frame move with pain but nothing was voiced or enacted to his satisfaction. And thus, he was not satisfied.

Her emotions were fit to burst with despair. She lowered her head more, having her hair cover her frightened face as she silently wept. Her master growled as he pushed her down, kneading her flesh with anger. She gave him nothing to hear, and buried the side of her face in the pillow.

"Sing dammit!" The rat roared. He paused a moment to watch her before he kissed her, violently. He was ravaging her mouth and slowly she responded with small whimpers and movements under his bulk. Smiling that he was getting what he wanted, he proceeded to grope her. She squirmed and began clawing his arms as his hands crawled through her fur, but she soon remembered that she was a willing participant.

But she still did not like this.

"R-R-Ratigan!" She gasped as the feeling of pleasure shot through her veins. She did not expect such a feeling being caused by her worst fear.

He responded with a dark laugh, almost making her sick with fear again. His lips smothered her own for a second before moving to her neck with teeth. The nibbles were not as painful as the hand between her legs. Trembling, she let her body respond and arch, making her gasp and cry more. She felt every finger that slipped inside, every sweep of his nails and the pressured squeeze that made her sing. Anette did not expect pleasure to come so soon, and she felt thankful in her trembling bliss he wasn't hurting her…

And then he stopped.

The gypsy fell limp; looking at him perched above her. His tongue licked at the wetness that coated his fingers, his beady eyes upon her face. She felt already exhausted and her lower regions ached. She wished she would not need him to satisfy herself.

"You thought I was going to be nice, hmm?" Ratigan growled. She continued staring and catching her breath. His smile was devious.

"Well I won't. I'm very sorry dear…"

The smile turned into a vicious maw as he lunged to her breasts. Anette screamed, claws digging into her sides and teeth nipping her flesh. Though he was holding back, it was still painful, painful to make her head swim as she continued yelping and struggling. Anette tried to stop him…to push his mouth away…her hands clawing his head and face. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them down and away, giving him free access in suckling bloody and greedily.

Her breasts bled and he drunk. Tears came forth from her eyes, pain agonizing and moving to a slow throb and her heartbeat was loud in her ears.

_Make him stop…please…_

The teeth moved up and bit into her shoulder. She hissed and squirmed, his hands leaving her wrists as they clawed her thighs.

"Bleed…bleed…" He purred and even moaned as she let out a sob. His claws were leaving scrapes and cut along her thighs, forcing her to part them. His eyes watched her face as she trembled and squealed, and her claws attacking his side. His terrified Gypsy was bucking and struggling as he settled himself between her legs, quickly taking his pants off and freeing himself of the confines of clothes.

His mouth still held her down, his small mouse girl beginning to beg.

"Y-you don't k-know how much…I…I d-don't want you…" She pleaded. "P-please…p-please don't…d-don't…"

"If I don't to you, then Bunny will be deflowered." He growled. She squirmed again as he pressed his need against her. "You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"N-n-no…" Her voice was small and faint. Her body was preparing to accept her fate, and she once again gave in to her fear.

Her hands gripped the rough fur on his arms, he planted his hands on the bed, and their eyes locked for the moment, thighs around his and his own chest breathing heavy.

"Then let me fuck you."

His rat tail wrapped around her little mouse one, and soon he had thrust himself inside.

He was bigger than a mouse, she felt that, She also felt stretched and nauseated in that moment, and then she let out the spasm of pain in the form of cries and tears. He paused, fully inside her, feeling her tight around him as the mouse writhed and arched, eyes clenched tight with pain. Her fingers dug into the fur, and she felt in the moment nothing…nothing but pain, the flash of stars in her eyes, and then the fact her nightmare was true. He was fucking her. Hard.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, blurry with tears and her nose sniffling. Her body throbbed at the invasion, and her mind reeled that it was Ratigan, the one who whipped her, who beat her, who abused her, left her there on the floor to be raped by other mice because of his cold, cold heart…

Now he was claiming the last of her dignity that he always seemed to never touch or care about. That final piece after so much pain was now being violated. Her intimacy was now touched by his own. Such feelings this caused was what she exactly feared.

This however was a sacrifice for the greater good. Already she had been shared through the year, and her terror was something much better experienced than letting a virgin feel the same way.

"Sing…damn…it…sing…" Ratigan grunted as he moved himself violently. Drool escaped his lips as he moved in ecstasy. Anette, in her own unwanted pleasures, could almost assume Ratigan was imagining it was Elizabeth he was raping. But he was soon brought back to earth as he realized it was a mouse, and he wanted to break her in two. His eyes opened, red with lust, and he knew then he had the free will to hurt her.

She screamed, getting smacked in the face. Ratigan pounded her mercilessly, panting in her face as she wailed with pain.

It felt like her insides were being grinded into a pulp.

Again, she begged him to stop, tears from her eyes as her body moved and shook with each heavy thrust. Her words were in loud cries of suffering, her paws grappling the mattress for a steady hold.

He did no stop. His hands crawled about her flesh in their mad grasp of curiosity. They squeezed and clawed as he moved himself into a rhythm. If one would have peeked inside, they would have seen his tail twitch and thrash while Anette's curled and twisted about Ratigan's feet, or just stiffened and twitched weakly on the clawed bed. There were bloodstains everywhere as some wounds scabbed over and some were still bleeding.

This was going on for a little while. It felt longer to Anette, for already she was exhausting, the pain more like a jabbing, throbbing sensation as her body numbed. Her arms reached to his face. Sweat dripped from his nose into her hair as she clung fitfully to him. His gaze that were so intent on staring into space, droopy eyed, looked at her.

The Gypsy looked rather broken by his standards. Her hair was a mess, there were scratches on her face, her fur bloodied, and her mouth open as she gasped for breath and sang her moans and groans of pain, and her eyes…dark, spent, and filled with terror and despair.

"You're a dirty little whore aren't you darling." The rat snarled. The light from the high window Anette noticed had darkened; a cloud must be obstructing the sun. The room felt gloomy. And Ratigan, looked violent. He smiled and licked his lips.

She sniffled and was thankful he had stopped thrusting. Ashe trembled, her hands sliding down his powerful neck to grip his shoulders as she tried to steady her breathing, and the pain was mostly ended.

"AREN'T YOU?" He roared.

"Y-y-yes…" Anette squeaked her response.

"That's right bitch. My little whore. My dirty Gypsy. Weak…trembling…Gypsy…" Ratigan purred and grinned more. Sliding out, she feel limp, listening to his words as she tried to cover herself up. Ratigan glared, nuzzling her arms away and slathering his wet tongue upon her fur. Strangely, Anette found the licks at her breast and stomach wounds relaxing, but she blamed it upon her addled mind.

"You know, with you I don't have to hold back. I would have easily taken Lauren and been nice to her…after all she is a virgin…" He spoke as he teased her nipples with his fingers. "Now…Canary…my dear Canary…she's the woman for me…she fears me, she's got bigger breasts too, not to mention. A perfect mistress. A beautiful rat, wide eyed and afraid…and her eyes…they're always crying…"

Anette squirmed and whimpered as he bit and kissed. Something was boiling inside her…

"But I'm disappointed Gypsy. You're not fighting me anymore. You're just begging…and letting me fuck you…and you do nothing but voice your pain. You're not broken yet…but you know you could escape…"

That did it. Ratigan chuckled as she, in her desperation, smacked him in the face and started to bolt off the bed!

Ratigan however was prepared. She turned into the perfect beast he wanted. A vicious foreign vixen! And that vixen was kicking and snarling, despite the pain, and trying to pull her self off the bed.

Ratigan was pushing at her limbs, wrestling with her to keep her down. She snapped at him, clawing his arms and screamed her rage! The Gypsy has awoken, her eyes lit with fire as she fought and pounded his chest and hissed and bucked and...and…

The rat flipped her to her front, smacking her back like a whip. She screeched, more in fury than whiplash, and his bulk pushed her down. She was flattened and her arms pinned, his claws digging into her wrists. She struggled as well as she could but he had her down, and to finish it off his body settled between her legs, his mouth bit down on her neck to keep her down, and his hands moved to her breasts. Her arms were now useless while he was lying upon her back. She was pinned for the slaughter.

"Now that's the fighter I want." He snarled in her ear.

"I'm not a whore! You made me do this!" She gasped out. Her voice wasn't normal. She was controlled with rage now, and not her own personal being.

"For a good reason. You are mine, and always will be, and you will serve me my passions well. Now give yourself up!" His teeth made it to her ear, nipping as she squirmed.

"NO!"

He was already inside her. She bucked, clawing the bed as she thrashed her body. She was no match, his hands kneading her breasts again and lifting her lower half off the bed for deeper penetration. Every movement made her insides squirm.

Every movement hindered her ability to keep fighting. Every grind in her sex elicited more pleasure than pain.

A tear ran from her eyes as grunts of frustration turned into whimpers…and then into moans.

"No...no…no…no…no…ooh…ooooooh…"

She couldn't think anymore. She could only respond like the whore she was.

Passion and the right pressure inside her was the turning point. Her wall of pain and indifference crumbled as the joy of sex mangled her brain.

She felt nothing but smooth, but hard, sex. Thrusts deep and agonizingly pleasurable. Her eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy as he flipped her back, thrusting into her again and riding her willing womanhood. Her hips moved in time, subconsciously meeting his every thrust. Her voice was the constant moan, and even the beg, for more, more…more…

And he smiled, panting and coiling up for the release.

To him, she was a beautiful sight. Her arms were limp at her sides, letting his strong arms on her hips and sides keep her there for him to fuck. Her head rolled about as her body arched, and her voice getting louder and louder as she neared her own release.

Ratigan began to laugh with sexual glee. She hadn't realized she was lost and about to be damned by him. He was burning, aching and so close…incredibly close…

He gave a final thrust and rode the waves of orgasm, spilling with a long moan from his throat. As she felt his liquids, she too was close.

"Give it to me, whore." Ratigan panted. He twisted his hips, bringing her over the edge.

As she screamed her climax, making a pitiful noise as her mind exploded, one word and image came to her mind as she relaxed from her rapture.

"T-T-T-Thom-m-mas-s…" She gasped. She was limp again, truly exhausted, beaten, sexually satisfied and seeing an image of Thomas as a brave man, a man who would take care of her.

Ratigan snarled. Who was this 'Thomas' she was mentioning?

"Who's Thomas, whore? WHO?" He growled. Anette, recovering quickly from her state of bliss, turned her small smile into a frown.

"N-no one…" She gasped. The rat however was unsatisfied with her answer.

"Tell me or else."

His claws went to her face, turning her head to face him. She could only lie still and lay her ears back in submission.

"He's…he's a police officer…" She replied. Ratigan smirked, knowing who exactly that police officer was. A stupid one, at that!

"I have nothing to fear then. He'll be dead soon." He laughed and kissed her on the lips, before sliding out and flopping to his side like a beached whale. She turned away from him, trying not to cry at the thought. For some reason, she knew not truly why, her mind in her anxiety attached itself to the thought of Thomas…her savior…her love…

She then paid attention to the pain. She could barely move her legs. She was aching. Her thighs were slick with liquid. Her body was covered with stinging cuts and bruises. And her body was demanding sleep.

It wasn't coming just yet.

"Whore…" He purred in her ear. She trembled as hands crept between her legs. "…I desire more pleasure from my Gypsy."

"Please let me be…please…sir….m-master…" She immediately begged and turned to face him. Despite his hand pleasuring her folds and the other grasping her back to push her against him, he made no move to end their passionate embrace and all the sex it could offer. Her pleading eyes and tears were not dissuading him from letting her go.

Ratigan shook his head, smiling with his big teeth and watching her weakly feel the effects of his fingers in her domain. His Gypsy responded beautifully…but not as beautiful as Elizabeth was to him.

However, Ratigan planned, he would celebrate real lovemaking with his mistress after the battle. For now, Anette naked in the bed would have to do for the next hour.

As he had her down, sprawled on the bed, her body shaking with more pleasure she knew that…no matter what…

He had her one day. She was his till she found freedom.

And as he clawed her again, she knew that she would do whatever it took to get her freedom.

Someday.

Soon.


End file.
